


Sauce

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Tina drinks coffee.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Sauce

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She’s only half a paragraph in when Gavin mutters, “Look at that loser.” And she should’ve seen that coming, because she can never get any reading done at work. If Chris isn’t talking about his new family, then Rob ranting over tennis. Ben’s always over her shoulder because she misfiled a report _one time_. She’s pretty sure Fowler thinks she’s incompetent because of how long she spends in the break room, but that’s only because Gavin always finds her there and always has _something_ to say.

To be fair, Gavin’s usual diatribe is so steeped in denial that he’s easily the most amusing of her chatty coworkers. But she doubts what he’s talking about this time is more interesting than her article on the complexities of introducing robotic platypuses into the wild. He lightly elbows her side and repeats, like she didn’t hear him the first time, “ _Look at that loser_.”

Tina begrudgingly looks up, indulging him. Half a dozen coworkers litter the bullpen, but she knows exactly who he’s talking about. Or at least, she has it narrowed down to two. She doesn’t know anymore whether he considers Hank or Connor his ultimate nemesis. Probably Connor. But other times, Gavin acts like their resident robocop’s just another piece of furniture, instead of a possibly sentient and ridiculously attractive fully-functioning detective. Gavin’s glaring at the both of them, and Tina takes a sip of black coffee while she waits to see what they’ve done now, but they’re just sitting at their desks, calmly working. They seem to have achieved an easy workplace harmony that Tina and Rob will never attain, and Gavin and Chris don’t have any chance of. She idly wonders which is more bitter—her drink or Gavin.

“Thinks he’s so cool...” Gavin grumbles, which should be a clue, but doesn’t help, because Tina highly doubts either Hank or Connor think of themselves as _cool_. They’re not in high school, like Gavin is mentally. To be fair, Tina probably still would’ve hung out with him in high school. He probably would’ve been on a sports team and gotten all sweaty after practice. At least he looks good while he’s complaining. 

She’s looking at Hank and Connor this time, so she sees when Connor glances up, brown eyes fixed on his lieutenant, rife with a sort of thoughtfulness she never would’ve attributed to a machine. Connor’s full of those little nuances, cute colloquialisms and adorable idiosyncrasies that have her thinking _Connor_ instead of just _RK800._ Then Connor climbs out of his chair and strolls around their conjoined desk, circling behind Hank. 

Hank cranes his neck to look up at his partner, and for a split second, Tina thinks they’re going to share an upside down kiss like the old ‘Spiderman’ movies her dad loves. But Connor doesn’t lean down, just lifts his hands to Hank’s head, fingers sliding through Hank’s scraggly silver hair and finger-combing out the waves. He brushes it back into one hand and reaches over the desk, collecting a twist tie out of Hank’s mug of odds and ends. Then Connor ties Hank’s hair up in a dorky little ponytail that somehow makes Hank look less disheveled. Hank rolls his eyes, but even all the way from the break room, Tina can see the fondness on his face. 

“Losers,” Gavin hisses. She glances at him instead and isn’t surprised to see red in his cheeks. She wonders just how much time he spends on any given day thinking about people he claims to hate. How many nights he lies awake picturing Hank or Connor. Or both. Connor looks closer to his age, but technically, he has more in common with Hank. They’re both flesh and blood and cantankerous. Maybe they’d actually get along if they could get out of their own way. Maybe Connor could mediate. 

Maybe they could have a sort of hate-fuck, team-building-exercise threeway, wherein they all learn to work together or at least work out their aggression through pounding each other into the mattress. Tina figures Hank would top, simply because he outranks them. But then, Connor must be objectively the strongest. Either way, Gavin’s a brat that needs to be put in his place, so if he wasn’t bottoming, he’d at least be subbing. He’d probably be a power bottom. 

He asks, “They’re the worst, right?” Like she’s staring at him because she can’t bear to look at the two idiots behind her anymore. 

She says, “Sure, Gav,” and abandons her article in favour of his generic complaints and the mental image of him sandwiched between two taller men that could maybe teach him how to love.


End file.
